When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [81]
Kit was going from crib to crib, yanking out electrical cords and tubes. It was the only thing we could do.
Suddenly Max was in the lab beside us. I was afraid for her. I wanted to protect Max from this, but it was too late. Her eyes were sad, but knowing. “They put the babies to sleep,” she whispered. “They do it with the rejects, the losers. They do it all the time. Now you know.”
They! Whoever they were—I hated them fiercely. My fists were clenched tight at my sides.
“We should get out of here right now,” Kit said. “They have to come back at least one more time. They can’t leave all this to be found.”
I looked at Kit. “Or any witnesses.”
Chapter 85
MAX, the other children, Kit, and I hurried through the towering fir woods as if we were playing a bizarre game of tag or hide-and-seek. We were “it.” “They” would be after us soon. We were witnesses to horrible crimes that included murder.
Ironically, the mountains and woods looked so damn pretty. The light was softly dappled. Bluejays and phoebes twittered away. Leaves rustled and fluttered in a lightly pine-scented breeze. But it was as scary as an unexpected trip into Hades. We knew the horrible truth—at least a part of it.
The children were whistling, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why. Max seemed to be leading them and she was doing a good job so far.
I turned to Kit. “Why are they whistling?”
He shook his head. “No idea.”
Max screamed. “They’re coming! It’s Security! Hunters! Trust me on it. Run faster! Get away from here! Everybody run!”
I grabbed the closest child—Wendy—and I carried her down a narrow pathway that led deeper into the woods.
Kit took hold of Icarus, the little blind boy, who was frightened enough to go with him. Kit had his gun out, dark and scary, but also comforting.
“Wendy, look! ” Peter called out to his sister. “Look up! ” He was rooted to the ground, stunned by the sight of Max flying into the air.
No matter how many times I’ve watched her fly, I was always struck dumb by the miraculous, indelible sight. I knew how Peter felt, but this was no time for gawking.
I yelled, “Pe-ter! Come here! Right this minute! Move it!”
Still clutching Wendy, I plucked him up, too. They clung to me. They weren’t too heavy, but heavy enough.
I found temporary cover in the bushes. Gunfire crackled around us. A dark hole opened in the thick trunk of a nearby tree. I picked up the two small children again and stumbled and ran as fast as I could.
I looked back just in time to see Max drop out of a tree and land on one of the men doing the shooting. He was dressed in brown-and-green camouflage, like many hunters and survivalists in the area. Max fell on the man incredibly hard. From twelve to fifteen feet above, eighty pounds had the impact of a falling safe.
Bone cracked! I heard it. The writhing man screamed in extreme pain. I had no pity for him.
For a long moment, there was quiet again, but it was almost as scary as the noise and echoing gunshots. How many of them were chasing us? Where were they?
Then Kit dropped into a shooting crouch. A single shot burst from his semiautomatic. Another guard dropped, as if he were a felled tree. He held his shoulder.
I felt sick. I was a witness. All of us were.
The ground under my hiking boots suddenly bucked. It was a powerful explosion and it shivered every tree and shrub and the forest floor itself. We were almost knocked off our feet by the shock and concussion.
The air around us seemed to split open. The woods suddenly crackled with heat, then I smelled smoke and my heart sank.
Fire.
With a furious thundering, two deer streaked past us. Birds flew up in black clouds. The woods were suddenly alive with frightened animals, and even more frightened humans.
“The School!” Max screamed. “It’s back at the School.”
“That was a bomb,” Kit yelled to me. “They’re getting rid of the evidence. They’re burning